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pedrospatch · 2 years

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surprise

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x Reader

summary: You're four months pregnant when you have an accidental fall; while you and Sarah wait for Joel at the hospital, an ultrasound technician accidentally reveals the sex of your baby.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) PREGNANCY, reader has an accidental fall, minor anxiety, Sarah calls reader her mom, talk of gender and gender reveal. fluff.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: i am a snail when it comes to requests, but i got around to this request here. it is the same reader featured in family, but it can technically be read as a stand alone. i know there isn't a ton of Joel, but I just adore Sarah and had a blast writing her!

“Where is he?” Sarah paced anxiously in front of your hospital bed.

A thin, light blue curtain shielded the two of you from the rest of the busy, bustling emergency department that you’d been brought to in Austin.

“I called him half an hour ago, what’s taking him so long?” she said, a frown turning down the corners of her mouth. “Should I just call him again?” she suggested, the anxiousness evident in her tone. “There’s a payphone down the hallway, I should call him and see where he is.”

“I’m sure your dad on his way,” You assured her, delicately rubbing at your swollen midsection with your hand. You were about four months into your pregnancy, and although your growing baby bump was still on the smaller side, it was very much there, prominent underneath a scratchy, itchy white hospital gown a nurse had helped you into. You watched the teenager as she continued to pace and pace; you didn’t blame her for being worried, but it was causing your own anxieties to begin creeping in, and the last thing you wanted was for Sarah to see that you were scared too. “Sarah, honey, can you please just sit down and relax? I’m sure the baby is perfectly fine.”

She stopped, turning to you. “You fell down the stairs,” she reminded you, as if you could have somehow forgotten that. “What if the baby is hurt? Dad’s not here, the doctors are taking fucking forever—”

“Language,” You glared at her lightly.

“Sorry,” Sarah mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is all just so scary. I don’t even know how you’re staying so calm right now. How are you not afraid?”

You beckoned her over and patted the space on your bed beside you.

Sarah hesitated, but then carefully sat down beside you.

You slid an arm around her shoulders, being careful not to yank at the intravenous line taped to the back of your hand. “Well if you want the truth, I am afraid,” You admitted, softly. “But I also know that freaking out isn’t going to help. It could actually make things worse and put a lot more stress on the baby.” Feeling her lean into you, you squeezed her shoulders gently. “Besides, if I show you that I’m scared, you’ll be even more scared than you already are and I don’t want that.”

“I just wish my dad was here,” she murmured, resting her head lightly on your shoulder; she placed a hand on your stomach, right over your own.

Although you didn’t say it, you silently wished the same.

Joel had been away, working at a construction site a couple of towns over when it happened, and when Sarah called him in a panic, he had promised that he would get to the hospital as quickly as possible. He sounded distraught over the phone, and as much as you needed him to be there with you, you didn’t want him rushing and risking getting into a car wreck. Still, every single minute that ticked by without Joel there felt like a fucking eternity.

“Miss Miller?” A woman’s voice called politely from the other side of the curtain.

Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “Miller?”

Sarah lifted her head from your shoulder, looking guilty. “I might have put that down as your last name when I was filling out the admission forms for you earlier. Is that okay?”

Before you could respond, the curtain around your bed was pulled off to the side, and a blonde haired woman appeared, wheeling what you guessed was a portable ultrasound machine behind her. “Miss Miller, I’m here to do your ultrasound.” She glanced at Sarah. “This must be your daughter?”

“Yeah,” Sarah replied quickly, nodding her head as she stood up from your bed.

You glanced up at her, your heart fluttering inside of your chest—did she really see you as her mother figure?

“Are we going to be able to see if the baby is okay?” Sarah wrung her hands together nervously as she questioned the technician. “And my mom? What about her? She told one of the nurses that her ankle was hurting her a little after the fall, are you going to check that too?”

My mom.

It sounded so natural, so right to hear her call you that.

“I’m just here for her sonogram, sweetheart. The first thing we want to do is to make sure the fall didn’t have an impact on the fetus. The baby, I mean.” The woman slipped on a pair of white latex gloves and peeled your blankets back, away from your lower body. “After, we will have one of the attending physicians run some tests and get an x-ray of your mom’s ankle to make sure it’s okay.”

Sarah reached for your hand, holding it in her own as the technician lifted your hospital gown and squirted a clear, cool gel onto your skin before running the doppler over the lower part of your abdomen; she squeezed your hand, her light green eyes fixed intently on the screen attached to the portable machine. “I can’t tell what any of that is.”

The woman smiled, pointing to the lower part of the screen with her free hand. “Well, the entire image is her uterus. And do you see that right there, that little thing? That’s the baby. There is her heartbeat, looking healthy and strong.”

You froze and Sarah’s mouth fell wide open.

“Her?” she gasped. “Did you just say her? It’s a girl?”

The technician’s smile faded. “You weren’t aware of the baby’s sex?”

“Does it look like we were?” Sarah nearly squeaked, her eyes wide.

The woman flushed a deep shade of red. “Oh no, I am so sorry—”

“It’s okay,” You managed to tell her. “Please, don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”

After cleaning the gel off of your stomach and tugging your hospital gown back down into place, the technician excused herself, uttering another quick apology about the mishap before leaving.

“It’s a girl,” You breathed out, a smile breaking out onto your face.

“I’m going to have a little sister!” Sarah squealed, beaming as she threw her arms around you. She pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. “I knew it, I totally knew it would be a girl! Uncle Tommy owes me twenty bucks.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “You and Tommy made a bet?”

“We sure did! A bet that I won.”

Before you could say anything, the blue curtain around your bed was pulled aside once again and a frantic, panicked Joel appeared.

“Dad!” Sarah ran up to him, throwing her arms around him. “Finally!”

He gave her a quick squeeze and then rushed to your side. “Baby, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, I tried to get here as fast as I could but traffic was so damn bad, it was a nightmare just tryin’ to get back into the city,” he explained breathlessly, taking your hand. He began to sputter out his questions, going a hundred miles an hour. “Are you alright? What did the doctor say? Has anyone even been in to see you yet?”

“Joel, breathe. I’m fine,” You promised him. “I might have twisted my ankle a bit, but they’re going to take a radiograph in a bit. Other than that, I’m okay.”

“And what about the baby?”

“I just had an ultrasound done and the baby is okay. We’re both fine,” You assured him, prompting him to exhale a sigh of utter relief.

Joel pulled your hand up towards his lips, kissing the back of it gently before he asked, “Baby, what the hell happened?”

“I was doing laundry. I was carrying the basket of clothes downstairs from our bedroom and my foot slipped,” You admitted sheepishly.

“I’d just gotten home from school and I saw it happen.” Sarah walked over to his side. “I called for an ambulance and then I called you right after.”

Joel placed his other arm around her, pulling her close. “You did the right thing, babygirl. Thank you for that.” He kissed her temple and turned back to you. “And you’re absolutely sure the baby is okay?”

You nodded. “She’s fine, Joel.”

“Good. Because I was so—wait, what?” he hissed, his his dark brown eyes going wide with shock. “Did you just say, she?”

“Surprise!” Sarah grinned, her arm tightening around his waist.

Joel glanced at her, then back at you once again, thoroughly confused. “Wait just a damn minute, I thought we all agreed that we didn’t want to know the gender until it was born! You two asked for the gender without me?”

You almost felt bad for laughing at the look of complete and utter betrayal that crossed his face. “Of course we didn’t. The technician accidentally told us,” You explained. You tossed him a small, joking smile. “I’m sorry, Joel. I know you were rooting for a boy.”

“Sorry dad, you’re outnumbered,” Sarah teased him. “Three to one.”

Joel kept his arm around her as he leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “I might be outnumbered, but that’s perfectly fine with me,” he said. “Me and my three girls—my perfect little family. It’s more than I could ever ask for.”

#joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x wife!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller drabble #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction

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moonbaby26 · 4 days

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Title: The Best Laid Plans

(Chapter 18 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Caesar Clown (implied), Smoker x Reader (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, reader is still going through it, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, breeding kink, Doflamingo is a freak (as always)

Chapter Synopsis: The morning after your and Doflamingo’s public engagement and actual marriage, he’s already working towards what he wants from you next. And you begin learning a bit more about the family you’ve now been chained to. All while this news of your union begins affecting even those who want nothing to do with you.

A/N: Not fully proofread! I will buzz back through later to clean up mistakes. I had a personal goal to post an update by this weekend, and I wanted to stick to it. 🫡

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

——————————

“I have to say…this is unusual, Caesar. Am I to feel like the pay I’ve already wired was insufficient this time? Or have you just had higher priorities this week outside of me?”

Caesar Clown was staring at that snail on the lab table in front of him, and the wholly disappointed edge behind every additional word.

Simply not answering Joker’s phone calls at any hour they might come had never been an option. Punk Hazard was far too close to Dressrosa for one thing. And Doflamingo’s warlord status allowed him impromptu visits whenever he’d wished on this otherwise restricted government island.

But even more important than that constant threat of his proximity, was the fact that Caesar wanted to answer when this man called for him.

Everything about Doflamingo intrigued him really. Every new test of his scientific skills that the pirate could offer him, every new payday, and every thrill of power by association that came along with it all.

Joker had a way about him that just couldn’t be refused, an equally dangerous and charismatic provider like no other.

And this conflict of emotion was only further proven in the way Caesar’s stomach twisted with fear, simultaneous to his face flushing with embarrassment as he tried to lie. “I just wanted this to be perfect for you, Joker. That’s all.”

The truth and real reason for Caesar’s unexpected delay was something far different of course. A setback that the scientist had no idea how to yet articulate when it involved his favorite client so personally as this.

Because the flaw wasn’t in the new concoction itself that Caesar had already created. It was in the biology of the man who had commissioned it.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to work as I instructed.” The other responded so flatly though, still unaware of what new knowledge Caesar was now hiding. “Did the news coos come by Punk Hazard yet this morning?” He asked almost conversationally next though.

“No.” Caesar was quick to answer a bit louder then, eager to divert to another subject if even briefly. “Why? Did something happen?”

The snail finally smiled a little there.

“I’m calling because I moved the timetable up again yesterday. At the colosseum in front of everyone actually. I can��t help it I guess. When I want something, I just take it.” Doflamingo answered far more smugly at that.

“Oh?” Caesar was twirling the phone cord between his fingers nervously now. He remembered well the urgency of their last conversation. Because Joker had obviously selected you as his broodmare of choice well before taking this public.

And why not?

The sheer vanity of the idea was appealing to Caesar as well. Taking a fiery, desirable woman and riding her into submission until she ultimately bore fruit. It sounded like a good time to him as well.

“It’s an official betrothal then?” Caesar could guess as much then.

The snail smirked again. “Yes, it went well. You should have heard the roaring of that crowd.”

But just when Caesar had started to feel the smallest bit of calm when Doflamingo had begun to further gloat, those words turned sharp again in an instant.

“So I want that serum in my hands by tomorrow night at latest, Caesar. I can’t wait any longer. Can you make that happen for me or not?”

Even when posed as a question, there was only ever one possible answer of course.

“Yes, Joker.”

The drug was already ready by Caesar’s standards. It’d force ovulation regardless of any contraceptive previously in your system. And it’d grant resilience in the fetus to the most common toxins, preventing either accidental or purposeful chemical abortion in at least the timeframe until it could be old enough to survive outside of your body anyway. Also with some other chemicals added to further the thickening of the uterine wall and amniotic sac for a bit more physical protection too.

Forced reproduction is what this plan truly was. But the devil always remained in the details.

Though confident as always in his own work, Caesar had still snuck what should have only been an uneventful peek into Vegapunk’s data from the currently unnamed warlord project as well.

All the warlords’ genomes and lineage factors had already been mapped out by Vegapunk. Made from clandestine samples taken from each warlord at the time of the signing of their government contracts in Mariejois.

So in only a single afternoon, Caesar had scoured through Doflamingo’s file. Just double checking for anything obvious. Any potentially debilitating mutations that could interfere in successful fertilization and healthy fetal development regardless of Caesar’s drug’s limited protections.

The scientist did not want to be blamed for a wild card like that after all.

But there, deep into those genetic markers, he had found something that was indeed a hard stop. Nothing that uncommon he guessed, but the absolute opposite of what this plan needed to be successful.

“Will…you be arriving here to pick up the product yourself then?” Caesar felt like those next words were coming out of his mouth on their own now.

Joker was exponentially faster in the sky than any ship could hope to be on the water. It’d grant Caesar nearly a whole additional day of lab time if Doflamingo came here himself instead of having the drug shipped to Dressrosa.

It’d also give Caesar a chance to dose the pirate with something complimentary to that formula being given to you. Perhaps Doflamingo’s one breeding fault Caesar had found could be temporarily corrected here as well.

The snail paused.

“You really need the extra time then…don’t you?” And there was a bit of new incredulousness in that tone that may have made Caesar proud in different circumstances.

Because he had never let Joker down prior to this moment. Thus the other’s natural surprise.

“It will be ready by then. I promise.” Caesar still tried to steady his voice.

He would do whatever he had to, to keep in the good graces of those beautifully deep pockets of course. Even if it meant degrading himself to finally ask for help from the last person he’d ever wish to as soon as this call would end.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Doflamingo’s voice eventually conceded to the new terms.

A rare mercy that further reinforced just how badly the Heavenly Demon must want this to happen with you.

“But no more extensions after this, Caesar.” He warned none the less.

“I understand, Joker. And it will be very good to see you again.” Caesar tried to throw on that additional subservience at the end at least, to finish on a good note so to speak.

Doflamingo did notice that difference in tone too. Because flattery was always appreciated, and a brief hint of flirtation even better. “Heh. I’ll be in a hurry. I can’t leave her alone for long. She just gets into trouble every time I do.”

“She does sound fun.” Caesar mused then, gladly sensing that returning deescalation which came with this bit of parting indulgence.

“She is. But I’m not sharing this one.” The snail grinned fully then. “So fantasize in private. And don’t miss a deadline with me again, dear Caesar.”

The snail disconnected with a click at that as the scientist was left still recovering, here alone in his lab.

He shivered, this new stress so very real as it ate through him.

Caesar knew what he had to do. It was the only way to fix this in the remaining time window available now.

And Vegapunk would be all the more insufferable after this impromptu request for collaboration he was sure.

But sacrifices had to be made, with Caesar’s own ego included in those losses for just this once.

Because Joker would have what he wanted.

Always.

——————————

This meeting had been scheduled ages before now.

Crocodile’s request for official residency in Alabasta was to either be approved or denied today.

But his initial months of planning that should have had him walking into this room as the vessel of vengeance in the young princess’s tragic ransom attempt gone wrong, had been derailed in a single evening.

Simply because you had to be in the wrong place at the right time.

Crocodile had always intended for his agents to kill Vivi. And then he would have killed them, dealing false justice and earning the full attention of Alabasta’s people.

King Cobra would then have had no choice, unable to publicly spurn the man who had captured and disposed of his precious daughter’s murderers.

And later, when the timing was fully right, Crocodile would have further pressed into that man’s paternal grief.

After getting all the information he’d need about the ancient weapon from the broken royal, it’d have been far too easy to then stage a suicide for Alabasta’s noble leader.

He’d have sewn the story of a father who just could never overcome the loss of his only child.

And with the people’s favor by then, and Vivi already gone to leave no Nefertari heir to contend with, Crocodile would have been poised to take over this country in the power vacuum which would have followed.

But no.

Because of you, that little blue haired girl whose corpse should have long been sealed away in the Nefertari tomb was now standing before him and actually smiling instead.

She had apologized profusely to the king for not being able to wait a moment longer to share her news as she’d entered the palace dining area where Crocodile and her father had still been talking business.

The royal family’s guard zoans, Chaka and Pell stayed close, but also were losing their air of professionalism as they tried to look over the girl’s shoulder while she presented that brand new news coo delivery to the table.

“Father! Please, may I call and congratulate her!?” The girl was practically vibrating in this new excitement.

But Crocodile’s teeth were already clenching against his cigar.

Because even from across the table, of course he’d recognized that fucking bird’s high cheek bones and dark glasses on the front page.

Every last bit of his restraint was being tested as the tip of his hook punctured the smallest hole into the tabletop now. Catching there in that new imperfection as his jaw tightened further.

And Nefertari, a literal king, was sitting there all the while, marveling at these images and the hyperbolic words of Morgans’ that accompanied them while he turned through those pages.

“My, it says they have been courting one another for years even. How unusual…a pirate and a marine.” Cobra said aloud with some added incredulousness. But only then seeming to remember his own pirate guest at all.

The almost sheepish look on the king’s face at that realization silently infuriated Crocodile all the more, before Cobra had the audacity to ask something even worse afterward.

“Besides being the ruler of Dressrosa, Doflamingo is also your colleague though. Are you close with him? Is this a surprise to you as well, Sir Crocodile?”

And it was also in the way that little girl’s bright eyes looked up to Crocodile with such anticipation for more details then. This insanity was beyond what the warlord could take.

Because it now surpassed all natural reason and probability the way that pink demon just kept ruining his life.

“Doflamingo does as he pleases. So I’m not surprised.” Crocodile’s deep voice somehow still managed rather noncommittally. His hand removing his cigar from his mouth then.

A tell they wouldn’t recognize. He was utterly seething.

Because that fucking, feathered whore could never stop being this ridiculous and over the top in every single thing that he did.

And for what reasoning this time? There was always a play, a scheme, or a manipulation when it came to Doflamingo.

Nothing was ever genuine, nothing ever truly real.

That creature was a narcissist, a sociopath, a nymphomaniac, and any other random assortment of mental conditions he chose from his grab bag of collected neuroses on any given day.

“Father, please may I call her?” Yet Vivi started once more, not dissuaded in the least by Crocodile’s lackluster response.

“Yes, of course. But with Igaram to assist you. A call from you is an official contact from Alabasta and the Nefertari family after all…and this would essentially be us reaching out to the Donquixote royals as well now if you speak directly to her.”

And this realization somehow delighted the girl even further. “Oh…yes, you’re right! She’ll be a queen soon. Maybe we can even go to the next Reverie together!”

Cobra chuckled at this. “It’s certainly possible now, isn’t it?”

The girl wasted no time however, having now received her father’s permission as she hurried back out of the room to no doubt find Igaram and make that call.

Which did remind Crocodile of his own brief interaction with you too of course. When you rather rudely rejected his flowers and their very efficient poison.

But now he knew why Doflamingo had not immediately struck back in retaliation for that.

This public exhibitionism was that idiot’s response.

“My apologies for that interruption, Sir Crocodile.” Cobra had turned his head back to look at him again then once Vivi had left. “My daughter doesn’t have many friends outside of this palace any longer, now that her prior playmates have moved on to Yuba. And after that incident in Scylla, I believe she’s found quite a female role model in that marine captain.”

Cobra glanced at that print one more time and your pictures there with his sentiment, smiling warmly before he closed the newspaper.

“You know…” He started again not long after. “I think times are beginning to change in this world. I have to admit, when you first asked months ago for my public blessing to transition your Rain Dinners casino into a more permanent residence here in our country, it didn’t seem wise to me given your nature of remaining a pirate.”

Crocodile was still holding his cigar between his fingers then, outwardly concealing his full disgust as he did at least listen.

“But, the warlord program has clearly been working well for Dressrosa. By all accounts, they are thriving under your peer Doflamingo. He protects them. And now, I’d say they’re on their way to having a rather selfless queen as well. What she did for us in Scylla, I will never be able to fully repay her for.”

And even Crocodile’s expression shifted slightly there. Because he felt that change coming in Cobra with these next words.

“But I’m going to try to. So yes, I wasn’t going to approve your official residency and citizenship request at first. Even with you being a warlord, I suppose I still had learned misgivings about what powerful pirates can do to weaker targets. Yet, I’ve thought about these prior prejudices so much in the days since our experience in Scylla. And the way that captain has obviously deemed Doflamingo at least, as worthy of a second chance in life.”

Cobra even sighed a little there, taking a brief sip of the still warm tea that his servants had prepared earlier. “And you and I both know she will face some ridicule and shame for this choice regardless, being that her partner is also still a pirate. This wasn’t the only reason for my change of heart, mind you. But, I can’t deny that my desire to help her, especially now, will be a large part of my decision.”

The king smiled again there, but with a seriousness that still showed his understanding of the gravity of what he was conceding. “So I do grant your request to stay in Alabasta, Sir Crocodile. Partly for your agreed protection of our coasts of course, as I realize more than ever, the enemies we still have in this world. But also because I want to show that men even with histories like yours and Doflamingo’s can be offered these mercies later in life if earned. We will stand with Dressrosa in this regard. I will publicly support her choice of allying with a warlord, by doing much the same here in Alabasta.”

Crocodile’s stare was wider then. His breathing had paused.

Nothing was ever supposed to truly surprise him. And his hand returned that cigar to his mouth as he forced a smile.

The fucking audacity of this all still had his blood running so hot. His heart was pounding with hidden rage. But even Crocodile’s pride couldn’t surpass his sheer ambition any longer. He knew goddamn well what this meant for him in the end.

This new way into Nefertari Cobra’s confidence and the secrets of this kingdom now came with the ungodly price tag of warming back up to the Donquixote family.

“A sound decision, your highness.” Crocodile drawled through an exhale of cigar smoke though. “I can certainly protect this kingdom just as well as Dressrosa has been taken care of as you said. But even more so, this feels a bit like providence doesn’t it? Why, with your daughter being saved by such dear friends of mine…”

Vomit would have been far more pleasant to roll out over his tongue than those words.

But Doflamingo could be baited and used in a heartbeat. He’d come here with you in tow without question if invited. Crocodile knew this. Just like the card games at his casino, as soon as one hand had folded, another had been dealt to him.

His false smile remained. “In fact, if you truly wish to put your support for that soon to be Dressrosan queen front and center in the public eye, why not ask her to visit here? An engagement party of sorts? As further reward for her sacrifices to your family of course...”

And now it was Cobra’s turn to look surprised, though not at all unwilling for this new idea. “Oh, Vivi would love that.”

“As would your subjects.” Crocodile agreed.

And he did see Cobra glance briefly back up to Chaka and Pell who were still observing this conversation hesitantly as his bodyguards.

“It has been ages since we’ve had a proper ball…” Cobra mused.

The two zoan users looked at one another, but their king didn’t give them any real chance to respond.

It was clear that this thought had rooted in his mind. “Notify Igaram please. We’ll go over the details together, and I’ll let Vivi offer the official invitation once decided.”

Yet it already was decided, wasn’t it? Crocodile saw that. Just as clearly as he dreaded what a reversal of his own word this would be. He had sworn to never work with that bird again.

But using someone wasn’t the same as working with them. Or even denying the full blown hatred that remained for them, now was it?

Crocodile would still tear through each and every one of you without a second’s hesitation if Pluton could finally be his. And then, all these days in hell would be but a distant memory.

Temporary tortures endured by him for the achievement of his broader goals.

And torture would be the proper word for what would be coming. Because he could envision that freakishly long tongue slipping out from behind those bright white teeth even now.

Doflamingo would be elated.

And Crocodile only had you to blame.

——————————

There’d been another note on the nightstand when you’d woken in Doflamingo’s bed in the morning sun. Just like that time on his ship on the way here from Scylla.

That beautiful handwriting that still seemed so disconnected from the ruthless individual who had penned it now stared up at you once more from clean, white paper.

The curves and flourishes almost looked like they could move, flowing as your eyes narrowed with your now splitting headache, sitting up alone in the bed to read it.

“Good morning, my drunken wife. Though if you can read this, then congratulations. You’ve rejoined the living.

I doubt you’d be in the mood for more pain medication after the last time. But all you need do is ask and I’ll still provide. There’s no reason for you to suffer needlessly. Unless you just enjoy it of course.

I tasked Baby 5 with watching the door out in my suite for you. No unexpected visitors this time. I had some very time sensitive calls to make however, or else I’d still gladly be tangled up beside you. But I’ll check in on you soon.

Yours,

-D.D.”

You closed your eyes briefly then, trying to focus enough to not want to scream.

The haze of yesterday and last night could have been easily dismissed as only a fever dream.

If not for the reality of the diamond ring still around your finger. The only thing you were wearing actually besides a pained scowl as you opened your eyes again and left the bed. Dehydrated as usual and wishing for any semblance of relief.

Even now, you had the instinct that you weren’t supposed to be exploring Doflamingo’s private chambers without him.

Probably why he’d given you your own room to begin with. A safer holding cell for when he was away, before you and Trebol had immediately destroyed it anyway.

But fuck it.

You were thirsty and still such a mess from last night as you crossed the bedroom.

And soon enough you found yourself standing alone in Doflamingo’s massive bathroom. With the centuries old mosaics and stonework that conflicted with his far brighter, modern tastes.

It wasn’t your first time being here. But without him even lurking just beyond the door to wait for you, it felt entirely different.

You did your business, relieving yourself and flushing the toilet before standing again. Your bare feet then met his tacky pink rug as you pressed up against the marble sink. The floral scents of his cologne bottles lined up on the counter only messed with your overtaxed senses further.

You turned on the water, washing your hands with one of his fancy soaps, and rinsing them well before cupping your hands under that stream to bring the cool relief to your face.

And you drank it afterward as well. Because to hell with his weird freakout about this very thing back at the villa. You drank that water several times in fact, refilling the makeshift bowl that was then your cupped hands pressed together.

But as you did turn the water off and straightened back up, you caught your own movement out the corner of your eye.

In that floor to ceiling mirror that was well big enough for even Doflamingo to fully admire himself in the nude.

And you’d seen him do it. One too many lingering glances towards his own image in that reflective glass after showering.

But all you saw now was nothing near as flawless as him as you made that same mistake of also looking for too long.

Into your tired, pained eyes. And over all the bruises now transitioning through every sequence of unnatural colors, while the trapped blood tried to dissolve for days at a time beneath your skin.

The shape of Doflamingo’s foot sole was still centered prominently over your sternum from that battle in the other bathroom as well. His love bites also along your shoulders and one deep enough to actually have thickly scabbed over on one of your hips.

You weren’t always quick enough with your armament when you were supposed to be experiencing pleasure. He’d kiss and lick you, bringing you nearly to orgasm, and then nail you with a real bite sometimes.

It furthered his arousal at the complete loss of your own in moments like that.

And you didn’t want to see this anymore.

Not right now.

You turned and stalked out of the bathroom before that disgust in yourself could fully take hold again. Before you could shatter that mirror and even the ancient stone behind it with your clenched fist.

Your luggage was just set against a wall in his bedroom when you came back to it. Like it didn’t belong here at all as you spitefully dug through it.

You put on your usual underwear, but with sweatpants over them this time. That and an old, long sleeve shirt as a top.

It was throw away shit, only fit for laying alone in a ship’s bunk late at night. But you were purposefully covering everything but your face, feet, and hands with it now.

You didn’t know what your plan even was anymore. You didn’t have one as you cracked open that tall bedroom door to exit into the hallway that led to the rest of the king’s suite.

And even with the warning of Doflamingo’s letter, you’d still paused at seeing Baby 5’s back while she stood silently at the window she’d apparently opened in the main sitting room.

She was staring out, not yet noticing you at all.

You’d considered still making a purposeful sound though. To spare you both the inevitable bad reaction of surprising her. You weren’t in the mood of dealing with that. But then you’d noticed the small cloud which rose up as she exhaled.

And something else still inside of you immediately reacted instead.

You didn’t know why. Because it wasn’t as if she was anyone you could actually help.

You couldn’t even help yourself in this place.

“And just how old are you to be doing that!?” You snapped at her regardless.

The girl made a frightened noise of course, eyes wide as she looked back over her shoulder with that lit cigarette still sticking out from between her lips.

Her hands went together in a begging gesture almost simultaneously too as her whole body then turned to face you in the realization of being caught. “He said you’d still be asleep! Please! Please don’t tell the Young Master!”

And her higher pitched plea was like a knife through your still throbbing head.

But you just couldn’t imagine why Doflamingo would care either. He’d thrown his child soldiers out into battle without hesitation for years. Why would any additional lung damage ever matter?

“What would he care?” You asked along with that thought as you approached. But your displeasure must have still been clear even as she didn’t answer.

One more look at you and she’d tossed that still lit cigarette right out of the open window rather than argue.

But that still wasn’t enough. Not for you. “Give it to me.” Your eyes narrowed at her anyway as you held your hand out tiredly, so close to her then.

“What?” She asked defensively, starting to back away.

“The pack, kid. Because you never answered me. What are you, fifteen?”

“Sixteen.” She looked at you with such indignity there, her defiance trying to return.

“Yeah, no damn difference.” But you saw the top of that small box sticking out of a pocket on the apron you hoped they didn’t make her wear. And you snatched the pack right from her, then and there.

“Hey!” She protested, exacerbating your headache yet again with the shrillness of her upset voice.

Your head was hurting enough that you made your own choice next. You were already over this hangover pain. You needed to feel, taste, or do something different. Anything.

Baby 5 had paused as you opened the confiscated box just as smoothly and removed a single cigarette from it.

It’s not like you’d ever said you were entirely fair either.

“Chill out. You owe me one for all your yelling anyway.” You sighed. “So give me a light, and I’ll at least let you keep the lighter.” You told her as you brought that fresh cigarette up to your own lips.

“You smoke?” She asked incredulously.

“No. Well, not cigarettes. Cigars…sometimes. I just-” But you realized that was far too honest for this moment. And you walked that comment back quickly. “No. I don’t smoke. Just light it already.“

It was not at all your desire to remind yourself of Smoker or anyone else right now. Of course he’d taught you how. Of course he’d let you try his, and thought it hot whenever you’d held one cigar between your fingers and the other between your teeth, breathing deeply for him while his own mouth had went to work much farther down your body.

You’d had your fun together. And it had meant something, at least to you. Those memories wouldn’t be erased just because Doflamingo said they should.

Yesterday, he’d told the papers you had no exes.

That it had always been him for as long as you’d been old enough to be with a man. That’s what that new timeframe meant, and you were sure he knew that.

He’d told them you’d been fucking a pirate since you’d even known how to fuck.

Baby 5 still stared at you, but she listened to your command regardless as she got the lighter from her other pocket. Likely just in that habit of her always being told what to do around here.

You bent down enough for her to light the cigarette as you inhaled slightly to get the burn going.

And you did cough a couple of times, that shitty taste one you probably should have long forgotten when you’d first tried and ultimately rejected these years ago as a chore girl.

Baby 5 watched that too, almost entranced for a moment before your hand suddenly moved and you tossed that nearly full pack of her remaining cigarettes right out of the window as well.

“Ah! Why!?” She yelled again, as if you’d wounded her physically that time. While her gaze followed the tumble of the box and its fall multiple stories down until it was out of sight.

“Because you don’t need it.” You grumbled, even with the utmost hypocrisy of taking yet another drag as you said so.

“And neither do you.”

Both you and the girl straightened up then, looking to the open archway that connected back to the rest of the royal suite.

Doflamingo’s long frame darkened it, slouched in that odd way of his with his hands in his pockets as he surveyed this new scene.

Yes, you were also starting to lose count of just how many times he’d now silently entered his own rooms to catch you off guard.

He must do it on purpose.

“Young Master! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t-” The teen tried.

“Out, Baby 5.” The warlord answered. Oddly calm, but non negotiable to his subordinate all the same.

And she didn’t have to be told twice. She slinked past him immediately, head down and fully submissive as she quickly exited.

Leaving you and Doflamingo then staring at one another with that burning cigarette still between your lips.

Your senses were still jumbled. You couldn’t yet feel his intent. And that worried you.

But it was a somewhat good sign when he did take off his glasses, propping them into his hair as usual when the two of you were alone. Though he still watched you sharply through his good eye.

“You love to test me…don’t you?” He said, straightening his tall posture as he moved closer.

And you held your ground, even when seeing his focus move critically back to that burning cigarette. “I’m having a rough morning. I just wanted a distraction.” You exhaled as you spoke.

But he was so close already then, bending down to grin at you as he inhaled that smoky exhale of yours right into his own lungs.

“And I hate the smell of your ‘distraction’, love…because it lingers. I’ve told them all so many times. Anywhere else they want, just not in my private rooms.”

Yet you remained still as Doflamingo’s hand exited his pocket to so purposefully come up towards your face. His long fingers ran along your cheek softly, just before he plucked that cigarette right from your unsuspecting mouth in one harsh motion.

Like yanking a weed out of a garden.

At least that’s what his brief glare seemed to say. That he was correcting you, just before his hungry lips covered where that cigarette had been.

And you didn’t stop him. He’d even made a wanting noise soon enough, one that sounded fully involuntary with his tongue seeking deeper entrance as you parted your lips for him.

His legs were bent as he tasted you and the remnants of that smoke, again and again actually.

And when he was done, you heard his harsher breathing just from that bit of intimacy. There was a reluctance in him even then as you saw that needful look briefly flicker through his eyes.

His other hand had now taken yours though while he began to lead you away from the window.

But not before he put that cigarette he’d abruptly taken from you into his own mouth.

“We are not making a habit of this. Do you understand?” He chided you again.

And of course you were staring, watching him smoke for the first time you’d ever seen.

He noticed your bit of awe too.

That taunting air of his resurfaced easily. “What? I’ve tried it all. Everything at least once. And many things several times more.” He didn’t even cough as you had, like he was proving that point. His lungs clearly didn’t care about this fresh assault.

“But like I said…” His lips downturned then as the humor left as quick as it had come. “I’ll never tolerate this specific smell on my things again.”

And you were now one of those “things” to him you were sure. With the further squeezing of his large hand around your smaller one just reiterating this idea, before he took and tossed that last cigarette out of the window as well to walk on with you.

“It actually takes years to fade you know.” He added even more seriously, not looking back at you anymore then.

He was pulling you now.

“Doffy…” It was obvious you didn’t have the will to resist him today. But he was already leading you both back towards the bedroom, which felt fully ridiculous and unwanted for you in this moment

Because he’d had all he wanted last night. You’d been a little drunk doll for hours, positioned this way and that to do whatever he pleased.

And Kizaru had caught you redhanded only to worsen it exponentially.

That pain of true humiliation went through you again as you did force yourself to speak, even when Doflamingo hadn’t acknowledged your prior plea of his name.

You at least wanted some kind of update on the real status of your life before he’d just toss you on that bed again.

“Did anyone call from the marines yet this morning? Did the news coos come?” You knew it sounded like begging. Were you demoted? Discharged? Were you being called a traitor? How bad was it?

But he still didn’t look at you. And his voice sounded so odd when it did finally come.

“Your priorities need rearranging, little bird.”

His hand loosened slightly. But just enough for his fingers to move against that engagement ring you’d still never taken off.

You glanced down, feeling him briefly turning that band.

And then the two of you had passed the bed. You were standing before another large door as he pushed it open and pulled you through it.

You went quiet, confused and surprised again as Doflamingo drug you into his closet without any further explanation.

Of course the simple description of “closet” was not near good enough either. Because it was a whole room of its own. Much bigger than even the one that was still supposedly yours in the other bedroom.

And Doflamingo did finally let go of your hand as he walked to the back of this space.

He was looking for something while you stayed near the front, staring at the racks of clothing rather helplessly. His coats, suits, shirts, and more in just row after expensive row.

Some garments were embroidered, some had real gold adornments and other precious stones. Everything was here. All the way from the gaudiest, neon colored capris pants you’d ever seen, to floor length furs and ceremonial uniforms truly befitting a Dressrosan king.

Your head tilted back a little too, then looking up as the glimmer of a literal crown and scepter sitting on a shelf above you caught your eye. They looked carelessly set aside, as if they were as unremarkable as an old pair of shoes to him before you heard him speak again.

“Come here.”

He’d been digging in the back corner, pushing away more of his suits that you’d never seen him wear in order to get to something.

And you had to trek across this “closet” just to reach him.

But you stood there once you had, already uncomfortable before he shoved something large and black right in front of you.

Your body reacted as if it were some sort of animal carcass, you taking a reflexive step back when those feathers shook all at once from his movement.

Doflamingo was holding the coat at the level of his waist then, and only had to extend his arms to follow you with it as you tried to move away.

“No. Smell it. And then tell me if you still think I’m full of shit.” He sounded irritated again for a moment there, as if he didn’t want to be holding this either for any longer than he had to be.

Of course the reasoning of this harsh new order made no sense to you at all. You just wanted to tell him to fuck off actually when this new weirdness began.

Yet you still felt like the biggest freak too as you were forced to let those black feathers graze your face anyway when he pressed it even closer instead and you finally inhaled.

It wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.

“Cigarette smoke.” You confirmed, but still looking at him as if he was being insane again.

As usual.

But Doflamingo scoffed at your expression, just before doing the same to strangely smell that coat as well when he briefly brought it up to his face.

“This raggedy thing is almost six years old.” He said, somewhat quieter then. And he lowered it again after. But was still clutching the coat in one hand, as he watched you intently once more.

His glasses were still perched in his hair. And you saw a different look in that moment, just the slightest warning before he swept that black coat around to hang it over your shoulders.

You tensed. And it was awkward and heavy, but no real difference to the pink ones he wore every day that you could tell.

But you said nothing in your obvious confusion. You only stood there, uncomfortably silent and waiting for the next touch, the next nonsensical action from him.

Yet Doflamingo was only staring at you for a few more moments, taking this all in like it meant something far different for him.

Your eyes flitted to his hand, cautious of everything again now as he’d moved it to once more touch your face.

“He’d really hate this.” Doflamingo muttered as he grazed his knuckles softly down your cheek. “He was always so adamant about me letting you go.”

Your head was still aching horribly, surely interfering with your own powers of reasoning. But your heart only began to beat faster as his hand then moved down onto your shoulder next.

He was neatening the feathers there. But some were missing. As if they’d been singed and burnt away actually, you finally realized.

“Marine code zero, one, seven, four, six…” Doflamingo added from nowhere as your breath did stop.

“That’s not my code.” Your mouth and brain shot off reflexively then. All of you were trained to give your marine identification number when captured. To say it over and over if you had to under potential torture, rather than giving anything sensitive away that could hurt your crewmates. “My code is-”

“I know.” Doflamingo’s face was tense. His eyes met yours again.

And that all new dread sank into your chest as he did.

“That was his code. My baby brother…my Corazon.”

Your eyes widened as the full adrenaline began.

In so many instances already there’d been these strange moments and the offhand comments about his blood family. All dead, all so seemingly triggering to him to ever speak of.

And you weren’t stupid. You were perceptive. But when every day and every night had you always still racing through the gauntlet of your own survival, it never allowed you the time to put any of these pieces together.

So he’d just thrown it right on top of you instead.

A dead man’s coat, now heavy in every meaning of the word as it hung across your already vulnerable frame.

“Rosinante…was a marine?” Your quiet voice both asked and confirmed at once. Because the silence was worse. And you didn’t dare look away from this pirate now.

“Yes.” Doflamingo answered directly that time. His long fingers still moving idly though, now nearer your breast, separating the individual feathers where this garment had evidently been crumpled against other things for years now.

He was actually preening you.

“This is just one of the coats he burned and left behind. I was always wasting money buying him new clothes. He could never take care of anything for long.”

Even with the almost neutral expression on Doflamingo’s face then, you still picked up on that real distaste in his tone. A true danger that made you try to force all of your energy away from your hangover and back to your very limited observation haki now.

You needed to focus.

This was no game anymore.

“I didn’t know.” You said in full honesty.

Doflamingo’s fingers paused too, his eyes moving back to your face with renewed skepticism that would have made a lesser soul cower.

“You really never met him?” He asked so plainly though.

“No.” You told the truth again.

The warlord scowled a bit.

“Well, I always talked to him about you.”

And you knew he saw that hint of surprise on your face again there that you couldn’t hide.

His eyes narrowed a little more in response to it. “You think I lie about everything, don’t you? I was telling the truth when I told the crowd I always wanted you. You had my attention years ago.”

That hand that had been neatening the feathers at your chest now moved all the way down to your hip as Doflamingo abruptly squatted onto his haunches in front of you.

His touch slipped so easily beneath the bottom of your shirt as he began to rub the skin of your waist.

“I told my brother that you’d be mine. But he was too weak to last long enough to see it.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened a little more, holding you firmly by your waistline now, skin to skin. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, (Y/N)? He hid from me. He lied to me. He hurt me.”

“He was undercover.” You said in something not far above a whisper then. Acknowledging the true scope of what was now being revealed to you.

And Doflamingo’s eyes finally looked bothered. He was watching that growing upset in your own.

“You were there that night too. With Tsuru…weren’t you?” Doflamingo asked you. And you felt the warmth of his body as he moved in even closer, still squatted down before you.

“Minion Island? Yes…I was there.” You responded as he leaned his head against you so unexpectedly.

He wanted you to touch him in return as he still held your waist.

And you did reach up, the black coat shifting as your hand moved softly around the back of Doflamingo’s neck.

It took everything in you to keep your hand from trembling.

“He left me no choice.” Doflamingo breathed just as your grip met his skin.

The primal chill that went through to your very bones was linked only to the way his eyes had changed again then. No trace of remorse as he said these words to you.

And Doflamingo simply shifted, wanting you to rub him further.

So you began stroking the back of his neck as you felt his face briefly nuzzle you. Partly against your own clothes, partly against those black feathers of his dead brother as he now chuckled.

A sickening sound.

“He took everything I had left. My heart…my trust.”

But it wasn’t sad or mournful. That tone felt like loathing even as Doflamingo’s hand moved again beneath your shirt, his large palm splaying low onto your abdomen.

“And I want it back.” He reaffirmed.

He thought he was the only victim here.

He thought he was owed whatever he wished to take because of the things he’d already lost.

You felt his fingernails beginning to press soon after. Like a claw digging into you with that renewed show of possession.

His teeth were bared again.

“I want it from you.” His voice was so low then, this demon of a man practically sitting on the floor now as he pushed your shirt further up.

“Give it back to me.”

You felt his lips against your stomach next, just before he whispered once more.

“Bear me my new Corazon.”

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

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i520u · 1 year

Text

invisible string ʚĭɞೃ⟡

HIII i’m so sorry this took me so long i just didn’t wanna be unemployed after i’m done with my series so i decided to keep this in the drafts for a while 😞 i hope you’ll like this!

PAIRING sung hanbin x gn!reader

GENRE fluff, sfw

MASTERLIST

hanbin is a responsible bf, so you can definitely let loose when you’re around him!

he will always makes you feel safe

when you go out on dates with him, he would always silently take your handbag off of your shoulder and carry them himself 😞

his nicknames for you are usually the common ones, baby, my baby, angel, and i think he’d most commonly use 내 사랑 (nae sarang/my love) because it’s so endearing to give your s/o a nickname in your own mother tongue am i right

but he prefers calling you by your name, bc he thinks your name is already pretty

constantly complimenting you

you get your work done and he’s like “good job baby” and then he’d kiss your cheek

you finish mopping the floors and he’s like “you worked so hard today my love, thank you”

the type of boyfriend that will give you legitimate answers to your “would you still love me if i was a worm?” questions

one time you asked him what he would do if you turned into a snail one day

and he told you he’d have to build you nice house where you would be comfortable living in

drives your around ALL the time

he would freak out if you offered him gas money because he really doesn’t mind spending his time, energy, and money with you :(

if you gave him a $10 cash he would applepay you $15

i think hanbin is a great cook, so eating out is very rare for you both because he’s always cooking up a meal for the both of you

if you don’t like a certain taste (sour, salty, sweet, etc) he’d make sure to alter the recipe a little so you’d both be able to enjoy the meal together

hanbin would be cutting up some vegetables, and then you’d come up to him and ask for a kiss, and he would gladly give you a quick kiss before resuming with the meal prep

conflicts with him rarely ever happens

he’s so good at communicating, and he’s just so gentle there’s really nothing to be mad about with him

he trusts you, and he feels secure in the relationship so he never really asks you about your whereabouts. you’re free to hangout with anyone!

all of your friends loves hanbin. he treats you so well, and he’s so polite and can mix around with them, so he’s practically in your friend group too

when you DO get into fights with hanbin, the fight never lasts longer than 2 days. he either apologises first if he realised that he’s in the wrong, or he’ll talk to you and explain why he felt like he was wronged

plus, even when the two of you are fighting, he’d still cook you a good dinner, and you’d still help him clean up all the things he used to make the meal 😭

also on nights where you both had heated arguments, if the situation was okay, he would still wrap his arms around you while you sleep

hanbin never go all out for anniversaries though

rather than fancy dinner date or a big gesture to show his love, it’s more domestic and meaningful

hanbin prefers celebrating your anniversaries together with things like giving you a photobook of all the moments that you’ve spent together

of course he’d buy you a gift too, but his main idea of anniversaries are more domestic

one time he rearranged your house and made a candlelight dinner all by himself for your anniversary, candles, silk tablecloth, fancy steak, he did that all by himself

whenever you get sick, he’d feel bad leaving you alone while he goes to work but duty calls!!!

he would make you text him and update him every 3 hours so that he knows you’re eating well and taking your medicines on time

when HE’S sick he tells you not to worry about him and then he would get flustered when he finds out that you cooked him some healthy soupy foods for him to eat

he thinks you’re so cute when you’re worried over him getting a stupid little cold

when he gets better he would give you so many kisses and cooing at how cute you were when you were taking care of him

honestly he’s always kissing you somewhere, or you’re always kissing him somewhere, it doesn’t matter. he loves kisses

when you say something funny he would laugh and then bring your hand to his lips for no reason?? when you ask him why he’s just like “you’re so funny i just had to kiss you”

when you’re showing him the new top you just bought and then he would just pull you in to kiss the top of your head bc why not

when you kiss him first his ears will go red

he would even be like “why’d you do that”

when you say you just wanted to kiss him he’d giggle and would call you adorable

“my partner is so adorable today, i wonder what’s got into them?”

#zb1 #zerobaseone #hanbin #sung hanbin #zb1 hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin imagines #hanbin imagines #zb1 hanbin imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone hanbin #zb1 hanbin #hanbin scenarios #sung hanbin scenarios #zb1 hanbin scenarios

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rollinouttahere-writes · 2 months

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I can't even imagine the sheer horror menace reader is in when they see whitebeard for the first time. Like even though menace has interacted with few people in thier life. I assume their all average height and not the 21ft tall mountain of a person claiming to be their new dad.

(Also kotatsu the cat might also scare the life out of them too)

Whitebeard and Jozu both terrify Menace. They didn't know it was possible for a person to get that big, so they're probably assuming those two are monsters or something.

They've also never seen a fishman, so the one on board also scares them at first because they legit have no idea what in the hell they're looking at right now. Another monster, they guess.

Menace straight up hisses at Kotatsu the first time they see him. They view animals as either food or competition for resources, and that cat is too big for them to hunt. Kotatsu is unphased and views Menace like some feral orphaned kitten and probably tries to groom them.

Another thing that freaks them out are transponder snails. The second a human voice comes out of one, they're freaking the fuck out. Animals aren't supposed to talk! And why does it sound like Ace?! Did it eat him?! Is it gonna eat them, too?!

#yandere one piece #reader the menace

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eldritch-spouse · 6 months

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Shags get obsessed with a girl that works at an art store where he gets his supplies. She's laid back and chit-chats with him about any projects he's working on.

[Okay but what if you had a really strange thing going on?]

You like this little freak.

Yeah, okay, that's a bit of a mean thing to say. But can you be blamed? There's no word that fits him more aptly than freak. Not even in the physical sense, there's a lot of variety in mushroom monsters, you know some of them can be tall and gangly like Shags. He's just bizarre.

The way he speaks, moves, conducts himself. You swear, not a single mannerism this monster makes feels natural or reflexive. Even the way he seems to intensely wait and make himself an obstacle until you initiate conversation with him... God, even the fucking topics of conversation, it's like he makes an effort to speak in riddles.

In this rather boring dead-end of a job, seeing this weirdo bend and squeeze through the doors like Samara about to crawl out of the TV is the highlight of your shift.

That's why he's your favorite client.

He's been standing still in the same supplies isle for too long, you already know what he wants.

" Having trouble finding something, Mr Shags? "

As if, he probably knows this store better than yourself.

In fact, he outright told you he used to be a client before you started working here.

He murmurs a response too quietly to interpret, forcing you to come closer. And, predictably, as soon as you are within grabbing distance (not hard to achieve when you're a lamppost of a monster featuring branch-like arms), a spider hand slithers onto your shoulder. It's cold, he's always a little cold.

You're urged in front of a shelf, his head looming over yours.

" Ahh, I need your honest opinion on something... If you don't mind? "

This is the paints section, a mural of hues that hurt the eyes.

" Sure. "

" What shade of orange do you think I should get? "

You love these questions. Because never once does he elaborate on what he's creating or why he wants you to choose. It's happened many times before. What size of canvas should I get? What pen should I get? What sketch books should I get?

You like the strange autonomy of getting to pick, offering him the same level of context he does to you.

Absolutely none.

" Alloy. " You point.

Shags reaches towards it with little effort, snagging several little containers with his root-like digits. The hand on your shoulders tightens.

" What a choice. Thank you very much, my dear. "

" No problem. "

It takes a bit of shifting before the hand on your skin is lifted.

You stroll back to the cash register with a small smile and occasionally observe the monster in the same way you'd study an animal at the zoo.

It's strange how little he moves sometimes. Initially, you thought it was just so he wouldn't drip ink everywhere, but it seems to be a part of him now. Blending in with all his other vaguely creepy mannerisms. Mr Shags gets all his items at a snail's torturous pace and finally, finally approaches you.

" How are the latest projects going, Mr Shags? " You start while scanning the paints first.

The shroom actually seems to frown for a second. Fingers busy on the balcony. " Not as smoothly as I wished... "

Tap tap tap.

" My latest muse and I, our chemistry, I'm afraid it has no substance. "

" Oh? " Your eyes deviate to his face for a moment.

" Yes... Something tells me it's time to move on. But I do want to honor our time together with one last, preserving piece. "

Tap tap tap.

" Mhm. Sounds good, I hope the next one works out. " Frankly, you're not sure what he's talking about, but you usually never are to begin with.

" Me too. " Then he smiles again, and you get the distinct feeling his stare has turned into a more scrutinizing one.

Far from the first time, it doesn't scare you like it did initially.

It's pretty funny, actually. You started out thinking this guy was some kind of loser looking to harass you, to intentionally make you uncomfortable. Nowadays he's more of an entertaining almost-friend.

Tap tap tap.

" Will that be all, Mr Shags? "

" Shags. "

He's told you to call him just by his name a couple of times. You always ignore it, but he keeps trying anyway.

There's a silent beat.

During your first years of work, the lack of action would have made you antsy enough to break the silence, which is what you know he wants you to do. But now, you have no trouble staring back placidly until he continues the conversation.

Apparently, the shroom enjoys that continuous challenge, because his grin widens slowly.

" You have a peculiar facial definition. " He eventually rasps.

A nothing statement, not quite a compliment, not quite an insult, definitely said to confuse and prompt a question. One you don't give him the satisfaction of hearing.

" Thanks. " The customer service smile has an edge of playful smarm this time.

Tap tap tap.

" ... I would enjoy sketching you sometime. Your facial expressions are intriguing. "

This is essentially his way of asking you out, you presume.

" You've drawn me before. "

He's even given you the pages, pencil depictions of you caught in a selection of moments. Mostly bored to tears and staring at the little universe between the cracks in aged walls.

Shags tuts. " It's quite different when the muse in question is part of the experience. I much prefer it that way. "

You can't help the hint of a snicker that tugs at the corners of your lips as you bag his items to hurry things along. Not that there's anyone else inside right now.

" Mm. And what if we don't have good chemistry? "

The shroom monster hands you his card, not even caring about hearing the total.

" I think we both know that wouldn't be the case. "

Tap tap tap.

It's only a few moments of intentionally creating suspense until you hand him all his new belongings and card.

" See you soon, Mr Shags. "

His grin only twitches for a delightful glimpse of a second before he carefully takes his possessions and leaves.

Playing with fire is fun.

One day, you'll get burned.

#Shags oc #tce rp ask

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severinapina · 2 months

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“About you and the arcades” — ONE SHOT

Another day, another dollar. Who cares? They're all the same. Breakfast, training, lunch, training, dinner, training, and bed.

“And don't even think about staying up reading manga, okay?” said his mom every night.

“And don’t even think about bla bla bla” mimicked an adult Satoru, remembering those times.

He hated them. Sure, his strict upbringing had made him who he was, but they were still bad memories. Formative years, they say. Every time he bought a Shonen Jump, his mind went to the pre-bedtime scolding or, worse, to the time his mom found his stash and burned them.

“And I had the whole first arc of Dragon Ball, for fuck’s sake” he said, dumping six sugar cubes into his tea.

“What about Dragon Ball? My husband was Vegeta” said Shoko, just entering the kitchen.

“That's like the hundredth time you've said that.”

“Wow, someone's in a bad mood. What's up? Did Megumi get suspended again for hitting his classmates?”

Gojo slumped into a chair with a sigh. Yep, Shoko was right. He was in a bad mood. Megumi had indeed hit his classmates, and he’d have to deal with the principal (an activity he despised), but more than anything, it was the day that bothered him. A beautiful spring morning, ready for the first cherry blossoms. Only he could be annoyed by such a scene. But it made sense. A lot of sense.

On a day like that, he met him.

He'd been feeling bored for weeks, no, months. The lessons were dizzying, the training exhausting, and nothing amused him anymore. Wandering endlessly through the forest surrounding the Gojo clan estate wasn't exactly thrilling either, at least not since he turned fourteen. He was anxious. Next year, he would start his studies at the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, which meant not only perfecting his skills but also something he'd been denied his whole short life: meeting people his age. It wasn't far off, really. Nevertheless, Satoru couldn't wait. So, it only took a small slip-up with his mother to bolt.

It was the third time he'd run away from home. The first time, at six, he'd decided to play snail hunting in the forest, an activity he kept up until, at dusk, one of his hysterical guards dragged him back. The second time, at ten, he took the train to Tokyo. He wandered aimlessly, attentively observing the eccentric passersby, listening to the loud noises, and smelling the various food aromas only a big city like that could offer. Until he realized, disappointed, that he still drew the attention of minor sorcerers. And there were plenty. He returned home before they noticed he was gone, convinced that perhaps no one would ever understand what it felt like to be a freak.

But this time would be different. He knew exactly where to go. And not only that, but he'd discovered how to mask his cursed energy for a short time. That, plus a good cap, guaranteed him a few hours of forgetting his boring, routine life Gojo clan.

“Fuck the sorcerers” he muttered with a giggle as he boarded the train.

Upon arriving at his destination station, he ran up excited. He knew exactly where he wanted to go: the arcade with games from the late '80s and early '90s and, specifically, one game: Street Fighter.

He didn't expect a guy dressed in karate gear with a meter-wide back to be using it.

But Satoru wasn't one to give up. He knew he couldn't keep his disguise and low energy for long, so he had to make the most of it.

He approached the guy and patted him on the back.

“What do you want? I told you I'd help...” he said, turning around. “Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else.”

Satoru, seeing him, could only think one thing: "bangs." He was facing a boy around his age, with violet eyes and dark, shiny hair, highlighted by a suspiciously untamed tuft.

He stared at him, mouth open. Not only did he have an intimidating demeanor, but he also emitted cursed energy. And strong energy at that.

“Well? Can I help you with something?”, the boy asked when Satoru didn't respond.

Gojo snapped back to reality.

“I want to use that machine”, he said, standing tall and speaking authoritatively. He'd grown a lot that year, probably about ten centimeters. He had to use that to his advantage.

“Good for you, but I'm using it. Feel free to wait over there”, he pointed to the door.

Confused, Satoru quickly glanced outside and then back at the boy. "What a rude jerk," he thought. Gojo wasn't used to being told no. And, although he hated himself for it and it contradicted his plans for the day, he played the clan card. After all, the boy with the ridiculous tuft was a sorcerer.

He removed his cap and glasses, locking his blue eyes on him.

“Do you even know who I am?”

The boy looked him up and down.

“An idol? Sorry, not into that stuff”, he said, turning back around.

Flabbergasted, Satoru stepped in front of him.

“I'm Gojo Satoru”, he said, indicating his eyes.

The boy, now annoyed, pushed him aside.

“What a rude introduction. Move, please.”

Satoru, even more perplexed, significantly increased the levels of cursed energy he was emitting. This caught the boy's attention. He widened his eyes and, after a few seconds, said:

“You have...that?”

“Yep. Told you I'm Gojo Satoru.”

“Your name still doesn't ring a bell, but”, he stood up and offered his hand. “...I'm Geto Suguru.”

Suguru had spent years unsure of what to make of his strange gift. He saw people and entities where there were none, heard horrible whispers in the dark, and smelled scents that would scare the vilest pirate. He'd intuitively learned to swallow curses, but he knew very little. He didn't even call it energy. To him, it was just "that." The only person he'd met with the same ability was the teacher from the Curse College who had come to recruit him. But he hadn't really explained anything. It would all come later, he'd said. So, meeting a boy his age with the same thing for the first time was incredibly intriguing.

He observed Satoru for a long time. He didn't want to forget his face.

“Are you gonna let me play or not?”, Gojo asked impatiently. He didn't want to be rude, but no one changes overnight.

“Wow, no manners," thought Suguru as he stared at Satoru, puzzled. Normally, if someone treated him like that, Suguru would either ignore them or tell them off. However, something told him it wasn't time to part ways with this strange albino and his frog-like eyes just yet. He felt their cursed energy made them, on a peculiarly intimate level, comrades.

After a few seconds, he said:

“There's another arcade two stations away with two Street Fighters. Want to go?”

“Why would I need two?”, Satoru asked, raising his eyebrows.

Suguru blushed.

“So we can both play.”

"Idiot," he added to himself.

Gojo stared at him for a moment, blinking as if he were being drenched by a thousand raindrops. This was new for him. Not only had he met a sorcerer who didn't know him, but one his age who was polite enough to invite him to play.

He stood up and walked to the door. Suguru looked at him questioningly, and Satoru turned his head.

“Aren't you gonna lead the way?”

Suguru nodded and hurried. They walked to the metro together in silence, but contrary to what one might expect from such a situation, they both felt strangely comfortable. As if they'd known each other forever.

At the next arcade, Gojo noticed he wasn't feeling so great anymore. He checked the time. He didn't have much freedom left. He had about fifty minutes before he’d collapse from the effort of hiding his energy. Plus, it was nearly time for his boring History of Clans and General Sorcery class.

“Ugh, school sucks”, he said, not realizing he’d spoken out loud.

Suguru pointed with a smile at the two Street Fighter machines. They were empty, almost waiting for them.

As they sat down, he said:

“School's not so bad if you focus on your studies and join a club. Which school do you go to?”

Gojo eyed him from under his glasses. Of course, this martial arts student had to be a star pupil. "The shoujo manga class rep stereotype," he thought, continuing to scrutinize him.

Taking his seat, he replied:

“I’m homeschooled.”

Now it was Suguru's turn to scrutinize. "So that's why he has no manners," he thought, watching Satoru pick his nose.

“Too bad. Thought we might run into each other in a tournament.”

Satoru eyed him suspiciously. Too bad? Why was this guy being so nice to him? He didn’t know who he was, so he couldn’t be a kiss-up. And Gojo couldn’t fathom that he was simply dealing with someone genuinely nice. He was too used to cold, sarcastic manners.

“I don’t like sports much”, he said curtly. “Don’t talk to me, I'm starting my game, okay?”

"Yeah, he's an idiot," thought Suguru as he stood up and walked over to Satoru. "I should go study and stop wasting time with this annoying brat, but..."

Suguru hit the button to cancel the albino’s game. Satoru looked at him like he had just heard a dog talk.

“What the...?”

“I brought you here so we could both play. You have...that thing, same as me, and I think...I don’t know. You intrigue me. Can you play with me for a bit?”

Suguru was surprised to say those words and blushed like never before.

Satoru didn’t know what to say. No one had ever asked to spend time with him. People were always around him just because of who he was. Asking for permission to share his time was unheard of.

He didn’t think about it. He was intrigued by this Geto Suguru too. And in a way he couldn’t explain, he wanted to spend time with him. But they were short on time. He checked the time and clicked his tongue.

“I have half an hour. Then I gotta go or I’ll be half-dead.”

Suguru laughed loudly. He had no idea what Satoru meant, but it was funny anyway. And not just anyone could make him laugh like that.

“Alright, Cinderella. I’ll beat you in five minutes.”

He had no idea that Satoru played, hidden under his covers, for four hours every night. That, plus his exceptional brain, made him a whiz at everything he did, including ‘80s fighting video games.

After losing three rounds embarrassingly, Suguru thought it was best to throw in the towel. Not only that, but looking at the time, he realized his parents expected him for dinner in fifteen minutes.

“I think it’s time for me to go”, said Geto, a bit hesitant. He didn��t want to leave. He was having a good time.

Satoru looked at the time and was surprised to feel sad. He had to leave too. Standing up from the machine, he said:

“I have to go too.”

The two boys stared at each other like they were seeing their reflection.

“Wanna walk together?” asked Suguru suddenly.

Satoru nodded. He’d walk to Kyoto with this stranger, honestly.

As they left, Suguru headed to a vending machine.

“What do you want to drink?”

The albino panicked. He’d never had any of those neon-colored drinks before. They were forbidden to him. The strongest had to follow a strict, low-sugar diet.

“The same as you”

“But I haven’t chosen anything yet”, said Geto, confused.

Satoru just looked away. He felt a bit ridiculous, which was new for him. He had been raised to never feel less than the rest of the simple mortals.

Guessing what was happening, Suguru got a Sprite for himself and a Coke for Satoru.

“Hey, heads up!”, said Suguru, tossing the soda to him.

Satoru instinctively activated his technique. Geto watched in amazement as the can was repelled from his body.

“How’d you do that? That was awesome!”

Gojo blushed. No one ever praised his achievements. Being the strongest was his duty. And no one gets praised for simply doing their duty.

“It’s...I was born this way”, he replied, scratching the back of his head. “It’s because of that...thing you have too.

“Can you teach me?”, asked Suguru, his violet eyes wide with hope.

“No. You’d have to be born in my clan and with these”. He took off his glasses and pointed to his eyes as he sat on the ground.

Noticing Suguru’s disappointed face, he added:

“But you’ll learn other things at the school.”

Suguru smiled resignedly, looking at the ground as he sat next to Gojo. He didn’t dare tell him the things he could already do with his technique. For some strange reason, swallowing curses felt dark and ugly, and not just because of their taste. Sometimes he felt something ominous came with keeping so many inside him. Satoru’s technique, on the other hand, seemed beautiful, bright, and natural, as if no one else in the entire universe could carry it with such grace.

Since Suguru wasn’t saying anything, Satoru, a bit nervous, asked:

“You know about the Curse School, right? If not, I can talk to them about you. Next year, I’m starting my first year.”

Geto smiled at him. There was something endearing about what he’d said. His words made him feel welcome at the famous school, even though he hadn’t set foot in it yet.

“Yeah, they came to recruit me a couple of weeks ago. I’m supposed to start my first year too, but...”. He hesitated. “...that day, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. I said I’d give them an answer by the end of the month.”

Gojo felt disappointed. He had really started to like him. He could get used to those violet eyes and that flamboyant hair. No, he knew he would get used to it.

Playing it cool and while looking at his nails, he asked:

“And now? What do you think?”

Geto smiled at him. Gojo Satoru had become annoyingly charming to him. Maybe leaving traditional education wouldn’t be so bad. At least that curious boy would be by his side. And something told him he wouldn’t regret sharing his teenage years with him.

“Now I’m sure I want to go.”

Satoru felt a smile spreading from the tips of his toes to the ends of his violet hair. He never expected to smile at someone he’d known for less than two hours; it just happened as naturally as breathing.

He took a sip of his Coke and, besides instantly getting addicted to the sugar, felt the familiar twinge in his head. He didn’t have much time left. He had to lie down, or he’d end up passing out. He sighed and glanced at Suguru. He never thought he’d have such a good time that afternoon. He wanted to stay there, not just that day, but all week, month, year. But it was impossible.

Although, he thought, they had four years ahead of them. And who knows how much fun they’d have then. He smiled again. He felt that it would be alright. Very alright.

He stood up and, before leaving, extended his hand.

“See you next year, Geto Suguru?”

Suguru took it and, without letting go, replied:

“See you, Gojo Satoru.”

And so it would be. Even when he was out of sight, out of reach, and out of his life, in the countless memories of their days together, Satoru would see him. He’d see the photographs, the books, and the hair ties he’d leave behind. He’d see his smile, his eyes, and the way he said his name. He’d see, in short, into the intricate and gray soul of that boy who, thanks to ironic fate, he’d come to love inexplicably.

Unbearably.

Infinitely.

And he’d keep seeing him, until his last breath.

🕹️———————————-

Illustration by @ahresprite 🖤

#stsg #stsg brainrot #jjk stsg #gojo x geto #geto suguru #satosugu #gojo satoru #stsg fanfic #stsg fluff

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